


there are roads left in both of our shoes

by reversetheuniverse



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:09:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversetheuniverse/pseuds/reversetheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>I do believe it's true</em>
  <br/>
  <em>That there are roads left in both of our shoes</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But if the silence takes you</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Then I hope it takes me too</em>
</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>A collection of the DaveJade drabbles I've written over the past couple of years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unfinished Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You've got blood on your hands and I know it's mine, I just need more time_   
>  _So get off your low let's dance like we used to_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my davejade week entries I did. The song I used was "Unfinished Business" by White Lies. ((An AWESOME song from an AWESOME band go look it up))

"Just give me a second, okay? I just . . . I need a moment, to collect my thoughts . . . and . . . a-and . . . _oh god._ "

He has to hold on for her sake. He knows she's never been good with blood and gore, death _especially_. She doesn't have to stare death in the face every single goddamn hour of her life like he has to, because her mind doesn't work in lines and loops of ticking time. He promised himself he would never let her see this, him dying, and now he's finally broken his silent oath. He can't face her, yet at the same time he wants to stare deeply into those endless pools of green that exist behind circular glass. The hurt is too much to handle, but he's got to make it bearable, just for her. The less pain he shows, the less anguish it'll cause her. That's his theory, at least.

"J-Jade," he mutters to the best of his ability, reaching out to touch her hand, "Get my sword. I need it next to me." She doesn't want to leave him behind but his time is running out and she obliges, making quick work of retrieving the sword to bring it by his death bed. She's back at his side in the blink of an eye, the bitter frost they travelled through settling around their skin, a numbing feeling. She has to bite back tears when she gets another look at him, his flesh beginning to pale from blood loss. A hand reaches up and presses itself against her cheek, her eyes widening as she peers back down at him. He dons a grin upon his face in a drunken way--delirous, ditzy. It's all he can manage for her.

"What is it, D-Dave?" (She's no longer sure if she's stuttering from fear or from the frigid cold.)

"Jade, you're a knockout." She utters a half-sob half-laugh, because even after he's been pumped full of lead, Dave Strider still manages to be smooth as possible.

"You're delirious, Dave," she says, removing his hand from her cheek but keeping it tight in hers.

"Not delirious, just a lil' desperate," he admits, his glasses askew on his face, the taste of copper in his mouth. "A lil' desperate to tell you some things I should've said before," he adds.

"What things?" His tongue seems on the verge of confessing something, and she anticipates it, but he coughs instead, spewing blood onto the white snow beside him. She cringes at it, yet she doesn't release her grip on his chilled hand.

_"Ilovmghurgh,"_ he coughs again, trying desperately to get his words out. _"Iloveyou."_

"I can't understand you," she frowns at him, her eyebrows furling on her forehead. She hears him utter a sigh, his own hand growing weaker in her grasp.

"You're gonna have to kiss me." She's not surprised at that declaration, she knows the implications behind it. She knows he will wake up on Derse, that he'll still exist. But this--this _death_ \--it's all too real to her. Too sudden. His blood is on her hands, and she doesn't know if she'll ever forgive herself for it.

"I know, Dave." Her lip trembles and she turns her head upward at the dark sky above her, tears breaking through the dam she's tried so hard to keep stable. As he goes limp in her arms, she whispers, "Where are you?", as if some god could save them now. But this is a game, and the rules are forever fluid and changing, and the only saviors they have are themselves.

She turns back to face him, pressing her lips to his chastely, praying for the end.


	2. A Slice of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My first entry for davejade week, "A Slice of Life" Sunday.

You return to your apartment at about four in the afternoon, a brown paper bag full of groceries in hand. The keys jingle as you unlock the door with a sigh, pushing open the door once the lock has clicked. You walk inside the small apartment, placing your keys in the small dish resting on a side table by the door before walking off to the counters to set down the groceries. Immediately you spot a note beside the sink, grabbing it to read what's been scrawled out on it.

  
_Dave--_  
Went to the park! I'll be back soon! :)  
<3

  
Typical of her. You place the note back on the counter, a small grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. She's your wildchild, and nothing can change that. You can take the kid out of the jungle, but you can't take the jungle out of the kid. 

As you turn back towards your grocery bag you hear the door click open, the scuffling of feet against wooden floors flooding your ears. You turn to see the source of the noise, but you already know it. She stands there in all her glory, covered head to toe in cuts and scrapes, decked out in a mud-covered dress and a crooked grin plastered upon her face as she waves to you.

"Hello!" You stare blankly at her a moment, trying to take in the state of her disarray. Wildchild indeed.

"So, you have a fun day at the park?" Her crooked grin splays out into a wide smile as she absentmindedly scratches at her arm.

"I climbed a bunch of trees today! I had a fantastic time!" she chirps, but you only shake your head, stepping towards her to assess her wounds. 

"Your battle scars would say otherwise." She giggles as you prod and poke her, meeting her gaze once you've finished. She's pretty beat up, sure, but she still manages to look like a million bucks to you. You place a hand on her cheek as gently as possible, brushing away a stray strand of hair with your thumb. She leans into it, grinning as you press your lips to her forehead chastely before staring her straight in the eyes again.

"We should get you cleaned up, eh?" She nods, intertwining her fingers with yours as the two of you stalk off to the bathroom. Once there, you gracefully pick her up and place her onto the sink counter, letting her wait for you while you gather your homemade first-aid kit from underneath the sink. After you've retrieved it, you extract a cotton ball from the kit, along with some alcohol, wetting the cotton with it before pressing it to her wounds. She winces a bit while you do so, but she doesn't stop you from cleaning her cuts. It takes you a few minutes to finish dabbing the blood out of everything and dress them with fresh bandages, but you complete within record time. She's returned home many a time in such a sorry state, so you're used to it by now. 

"You done down there?" Jade asks you, looking down from her perch on the counter. 

"Yup," you answer her, throwing away all the trash and placing the kit back underneath the sink. She sticks her arms out for you once you're at eye-level again, and you take her in yours, setting her back down on the ground. She peers up at you again with that wide, pearlescent smile again, and you can't help the way the corners of your mouth tug upward in response.

"Thanks, Dave. Wanna watch a movie?" 

"Sure," you agree, taking her hand in yours as you stalk back to the living room, taking residence on the couch. You think to yourself that despite how wild Jade is, and despite how many times she's come home in a dismal state like that, you wouldn't have her be any other way.


	3. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Could you write a fic about Dave and Jade having movie night? Dave tries to pull the cool guy move of picking a horror movie because he thinks it'll make Jade clingy and scared, but he's the one that ends up hiding behind her._

_Play it cool, Strider. Play it cool._

“You ready to watch the movie, Dave? The popcorn is all ready!”

You watch as Jade plops herself down on your couch, the bowl of popcorn settled neatly in her lap. It was your idea to have Jade over for a movie night, and you made sure to emphasize the fact that it would be just the two of you. Alone. Together. When she accepted the invitation, you were more than enthralled, because you had a master plan as to how this night would go.

_1.) Ask Jade out._

Check.

_2.) Obtain scary movie._

Check.

_3.) Let Jade come crawling right into your arms when she gets scared._

Okay, you hadn’t _quite_  gotten to that part yet, but your plan is in motion, at least. Your best friend John did you a favor by picking out one of the scariest movies he had in his repertoire. 

“Let’s get this party fucking started, Har.”

You grab the remote off of your makeshift coffee table (some cinder blocks and a plank of wood) and take your spot right next to Jade, propping your feet up on the coffee table as you press play. 

Now, you wait.

… 

“Dave, are you hiding behind a pillow?” Jade pauses the movie, glancing over at you. You sit upright, tossing the pillow to the side as you fold your arms across your chest.

“ … No, I was just resting my chin on the pillow. It’s all chill here, Harley. Are _you_  alright?” Jade chuckles, shaking her head.

“I’m fine! I like this movie!” 

_Leave it to Jade to actually be into horror movies._

She unpauses the movie and you keep watching, taping your fingers on your arms rhythmically. Everything grows silent in the movie, and you feel yourself preparing for … 

“HOLY SHIT!”

The music starts all of a sudden, making you jump in your seat as you lean into Jade.

“Dave, are you okay? Do you need to hold my hand or something?” You realize you’re being totally uncool, but wait a minute, did Jade just offer to hold your hand? You’d be a fool to turn down an offer like _that_  …

“Yeah,” you answer her a little too quickly before clearing your throat and adding, “Y’know, in case _you_  get scared.” Jade snorts and takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers together. 

“Why are you sitting so far away, dummy? Come on, scoot closer!” Jade tugs on your hand and pulls you closer to her, resting her head on your shoulder when you’ve reduced the space between the two of you. She peers up at you, her green eyes illuminated by the flickering lights from the television.

“Is that better?” You smirk at her, leaning your head against hers.

“Yeah, much better.” 


	4. Hey Mr DJ Put A Record On I Wanna Dance With My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Davejade au where Dave's a famous DJ and he meets Jade at one of his gigs. Needless to say he's a bit smitten._

You about flip your shit when you see a girl standing beside your turntables, a spot that has been designated ‘off limits’ to everyone except the DJ, aka _you_. You’re a little irked at first because your first thought is that it’s some stupid fan trying to sneak their way into free drinks or a hair sample (one of the creepier instances you’ve faced). When you catch a good look at her, your fingers almost slip on the spinning records beneath them. 

Who is this fucking goddess??

_No. No, Dave. Act cool. This is definitely a fan overstepping their limits here no matter how attractive they might be._

“Look, ma’am, you’re not allowed to be back here. This is my area, and that area _right there_ ,” you point to the dance floor below, “Is _your_  area. I get you might be a fan or whatever—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude! Also, I don’t quite know who you are,” she admits sheepishly. You feel your ego sob a little inside because _everyone here knows who you are_. And yet …

“You’re not from around here, are you?” She shakes her head.

“Nope! I’m visiting a family member.”

 _Damn, she doesn’t live here_.

“I see. And you’re from … ?”

“I live on an island.” 

_Double damn._

“So you’re only here for—”

“Tonight’s my last night.”

_Ugh._

“But I’m thinking up moving here. I like it quite a lot, and I hate being away from everyone.”

So you _do_  have a chance with her.

_You don’t even know her name, Dave. Also, aren’t you supposed to be working?_

Work can wait.

“Hey, what’s your name? I didn’t catch it.” 

“Oh, it’s Jade Harley!” She extends a hand out to you and you shake it, your calloused, clammy one pressing up against her soft, non-clammy one.

“I’m Dave Strider, the local DJ. It’s a shame you haven’t been able to see any of my other gigs. This one isn’t exactly one of my top ten best performances.” 

“I think it sounds amazing! I could never do what you do! Why would you think it isn’t one of your best?” 

“Because I’m currently distracted by a beautiful girl.” Jade blushes before giggling, a brilliant, pearlescent smile flashing across her face. You feel your heart beat a bit out of rhythm, but you ignore that. “And sure you can do it, it’s easy. Want me to show you?” She nods her head and you step to the side, allowing her to pilot the turntables. You remove the headphones from your neck and place them over her ears, taking her hand in yours as you place it on top of the record, touching her finger tips to the grooves.

“Now you’re just gonna have to feel the beat,” you instruct her, resting your chin onto her shoulder. “Think you can do that?”

“Oh I _know_  music,” she says with conviction, her voice smooth like molasses. You feel your throat run dry.

“Good.” You allow her a minute to experiment with the daunting task, and as you listen, she’s not half bad.

_God, I need this girl in my life._

“Mhm, looks like my time here is up.” You’re pulled from your trance as she slips out from your grasp, the headphones back around your neck.

“You’re leaving? Already?” 

_Stop sounding so desperate, Dave._

“This Cinderella’s gotta find her way home. She’s got a flight to catch in six hours and she needs her beauty sleep,” Jade tells you. You feel your heart clench. “It was nice meeting you, Dave.” She starts to head back towards the crowd but your fingers catch a hold of her wrist bringing her back to you.

“Wait.”

“Yes?” You’ve never been excellent with normal colloquy and being outright, but you know exactly what you want to say to her.

“You should come live here. It’s a great city, the people are great. I think it’d be worth it.”

“Thanks, I might just consider that.” With the flash of a smile and a quick wink she’s gone, the feel of her skin against yours lingering in your mind. You sigh and return to your job, because someone has to do it. You notice something lying on the table, a piece of paper, and you pick it up, studying the writing scrawled across it.

_“Call me! ;)_

_-Jade Harley XOXO”_

You smirk at the number and place it into your wallet for safekeeping, knowing full well that this meeting with Jade Harley most certainly would not be your last. Not by a long shot.


	5. Of First Dates and First Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Jade go on their first date and Dave is really nervous.

"Dave, just relax."

"I can't relax, Rose! It's Jade we're talking about here. _Jade_."

"Oh, you'll be fine. Just be yourself and go return to the table. Otherwise she might get curious as to why her date is taking a long time to get back." 

"Yeah, you're right. Bye Rose--" 

The line goes dead before you can utter a goodbye to your sister, but you're okay with that. What you're not okay with is the fact that you have to go return to Jade, and you don't know if you can handle this without fucking it up. You're just so nervous and excited all at the same time and to be honest you might throw up a little. Thankfully you have nothing on your stomach at the moment, so you fix the sleeves of your flannel shirt and walk back into the restaurant with as much confidence as you can muster.

"Hey, sorry that took awhile," you apologize to Jade as you take your seat once again. The corners of her eyes crinkle as mouth tugs upward into a big, toothy smile.

"It's alright! I hope you don't mind, but I ordered us drinks while we're out. Luckily for you, they did have apple juice."

"Aw, sweet. Thanks, Har! You're the best," you say before you take a sip of the sweet, saccharine liquid. She really does know you better than anyone else.  
"I try," she chuckles, and you notice her cheeks flush a little as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. You try hard not to watch her, but you fail to do so. She's stunning as always, but with her slick raven hair pulled into a bun and her black sun dress on, she's a million bucks. You're suddenly glad that you wear shades all the time.

You find yourselves sitting in silence longer than a minute, and you're kicking yourself because you don't know what to say. Before, it was so easy just strolling up to her and talking to her about whatever shit popped into your mind. Now, your mind is drawing a complete blank. What can you talk to her about? Boy, do things get complicated once you ask a friend on a date.

"So, how was your day, Dave?" Your head jerks up once you hear her say something, and you realize she's trying to initiate conversation now because you're too chicken shit to do it yourself. You're kind of okay with that.

"Oh, you know, the usual. I made a sweet new track today with my turntables, I did some photography. Same old, same old."

"That's cool! You'll have to show me your turntables some time. I'd love to see the great Dave Strider in action!" 

"For you, baby, anytime," the words slip out of your mouth before you notice how dumb you sound. Suave, Strider. Really suave.

"Very smooth, cool guy!" she exclaims, covering her mouth as she giggles.  

"Hello, can I get the two of you anything?" Your waiter appears at the table then, and you remember that you were supposed to look at the menu. You pick it up quickly while Jade orders, studying for something that you might like. You eventually settle on some spaghetti with marinara sauce and meatballs. You're just a simple guy who likes simple things. You hand the waiter your menu and he departs, leaving you and Jade alone once again.

"So, how was your day, Harley? Are you up to anything cool these days?" you ask her.

"Hmm, not too much of anything cool happens to me like it does with you, but I did sell a lot of lovely flowers! I always hate seeing them go, though," she frowns, wistful about the loss of her floral friends. You knew that she always worked at the florist shop down the street from you (Aptly named, 'Bee Happy!'), which you frequented often after developing feelings for said girl. You might've bought more than a few bouquets of flowers out of anxiety-ridden moments when you began visiting more and more often, but you would never admit to that.

"You really love those flowers, don't you?"

"I sure do," she sighs, leaning into her hand once she's propped her elbow up on the table.

"Then why don't you open up your own shop? You're always talking about how you want to do something like that, so why not?" 

"You remember that?" She sits up in her seat and her piercing emerald eyes gaze at you, making you feel heat rise to your cheeks.

"Uh, yeah, of course I remember that. I remember a lot of the stuff you say," you admit, mentally slapping yourself afterward. Why would you tell her that?  
"Here's your food," your waiter cuts in, breaking up the moment you two were sharing. "Do the two of you need anything else?" You exchange a quick glance with Jade, shaking your head at the same time she does.

"No thank you," you answer him. The waiter departs not long after, leaving you to eat your delicious meals. You take your fork and stick it in the spaghetti, twirling it around the metal utensil.

"You eat your spaghetti like that?" Jade asks, her brow raised.

"Yeah, how the hell else are you supposed to eat it?" 

"You cut it up like a normal human being!"

"Uh, this is how the Italians eat it," you scoff. "You best get multicultural, Jade. That's really ignorant of you." She laughs at you then, her infectious laughter causing you to join in.

"You're strange, but I like you, Dave." 

Your whole body goes stiff then, and you drop your fork onto your plate. How do you respond to that? It just made you a thousand times more anxious than you had been before, and suddenly your fight vs. flight response kicks in, with you taking the flight route, naturally.

"Uhhh, I gotta go get some air," you mutter as you get up out of your chair, rushing out the back doors of the restaurant to the fresh air outside. You don't know why you couldn't just behave the same way you normally do around her. Sure, you maybe sounded like a bumbling idiot around her when you flirted with her, but it was never this bad. You hang off the metal railing of the fencing outside, trying to even your breaths out.

"Dave, are you okay? I was worried when you fled the restaurant." You hear that familiar sing-songy voice that makes your heart beat a million times faster than normal and you turn around. Jade's forehead is creased with worry lines, and she's grabbing the sides of her arms, trying to keep warm.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you lie through your teeth, but she catches on immediately.

"Come on, you can tell me anything. I'm always here to listen."

"Ah, shit," you mumble, but you stick your hands into your pockets, keeping eye contact with the ground as you explain the situation to her. "I just . . . I got nervous about going on this date with you, because you're so awesome and I just didn't want to screw this up." She's quiet for a moment, mulling over what you said to her. You feel something tug on your hand, pulling it out of your pocket. You notice that it's her own hand intertwining her fingers with yours as she gives it a tight squeeze.

"For the record, you weren't screwing up the date at all. Even if we both got food poisoning, this would be the best date I've gone on, because I'm going on it with you. Also, if it makes you feel any better I've been nervous about the whole thing, too." 

"Really? _You_ were nervous? I thought you were calmer than I was!" 

"Nope, I haven't been. I had to call Rose about ten times today because I was worried about what I should wear and what I should say and would he get freaked out if I kissed him and all sorts of stuff. She probably blocked my number by now because she's afraid I might call her again," Jade tells you, offering you a tiny, reassuring smile.

"Wow, that makes me feel a little bit better. I'm sorry I ran out on you," you apologize to her. 

"It's okay, Dave. Apology accepted."

"If it makes you feel any better, I called Rose more than ten times today already, too. She probably hates both of us, now. We're definitely blacklisted, if not, added to her personal hit list for losers that drive her batshit insane." She giggles at that, leaning her head into your shoulder.

"You're funny, Dave."

"I like you a lot too, Jade," you confess. She leans back to look at you, her eyes bright behind her coke bottle glasses. "Oh, and no, I wouldn't freak out if you kissed me," you add, smirking at her.

"You smiled!" she exclaims when she catches your genuine display of affection. You don't normally like to show a lot of emotion, but for her, you like to make exceptions. She beams back at you, but then her expression changes and she bites her lower lip as you watch her focus on your mouth. She raises herself up from the ground by her tip toes, her warm breath on yours as she leans closer and closer before she presses her lips against yours. It's a quick and chaste kiss, but a kiss none the less, leaving your head spinning. _Jade Harley kissed you._

"Hmm, wasn't long enough," you remark once she's back on the ground again, and she bounces her fist off your bicep playfully.

"You still haven't finished treating me to dinner! Dinner first, then dessert. Kissing later," she says, pulling you back towards the restaurant.

"Is that a promise?" you ask her, feeling the weight of anxiety lift off your chest finally as you shift into your normal mode of witty banter and riposte. 

"We'll see," she drawls, but you didn't really care if she did or not. You were with Jade Harley, and that was all that really mattered to you.


	6. Where's The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _AU where the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear._

"Okay, so do you know what the fuck is going on here?" You realize suddenly that the cute guy from the apartment next door is standing next to you, in his underwear, nonetheless (boxers, and god what awesome washboard abs he has), and he is talking to you. A full, complete sentence is being asked of you right this moment from him. You look down at what you're wearing and let out a sigh of relief. You are wearing the cutest pajamas you have in your wardrobe (the floral, orange-frilled tank and short combo) and you managed to make yourself look the cutest you can before bed tonight. You thank whatever higher authority exists for blessing you on such an occasion.

"I'm not quite sure. I just heard the fire alarm go off and rushed out of my apartment with everyone else," you respond, trying desperately to stop staring at his finely chiseled features. You wish you could actually see your eyes, but he's wearing shades (ironically, like the song?) at near midnight.

"How much do you want to bet that the old lady in 2B put tin foil in the microwave?" he crosses his arms across his chest, raising his brow, a slight smirk tugging at one corner of his lips.

"I was thinking that Chester in 4D had left the stove on again," you grin, mimicking his stance. He chuckles, flashing his set of brilliant pearly whites.

"You're on. What's the wager?" You ponder the question for a moment, thinking of an appropriate parlay.

"I'll take you on thirty bucks," you decide. "How about you?"  
"What's your name again?" he asks.

"Jade Harley," you answer him. "You?"

"I'm Dave Strider," he says confidently, with so much coolness in his voice that he could freeze a volcano. "Well, Jade Harley, how about if I win, we go on a date?" You suppress the urge to blurt out the girliest squeal you can and nod your head instead.

"You're on," you twist your mouth playfully, turning back to watch the apartments with everyone else. A fireman greets the crowd not long after, making his way to the front.

"Alright everyone, you can all return to your homes. Ms. Johnson in 2B accidentally put tin foil in the microwave causing a small fire, but everything is situated now. You folks have a good night!" he waves, abandoning the rest of you to your trek back to your apartments.

"So, how about I pick you up at say . . . eight in the evening tomorrow?" Dave asks you, and you feel warmth prickle at your cheeks as the corners of your mouth curve upwards.

"You're on."


	7. Cracked Porcelain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lady running down to the riptide_   
>  _Taken away to the dark side_   
>  _I wanna be your left hand man_   
>  _I love you when you're singing that song_   
>  _And I got a lump in my throat_   
>  _'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, fair warning: this one is not fluffy at all and really sad. There is your warning.
> 
> When I was writing this, I had just discovered the song "Riptide" by Vance Joy and I was really into the mystery behind Gone Girl (a book I still have yet to finish), so this is what was birthed out of that. Looking back, I didn't even realize how weird it was to change from second person to first person perspective, but I still like this a lot.

Hollow hearts are voids just waiting to be filled by any singular thing that could somehow wedge its way into the gap. I have one of those, I suppose, but for some damn reason, I can't fill it. I'm not entirely sure why, really. I used to be Dave 'Rebound' Strider, able to bounce back after any situation that was laid upon my table. Yet nicknames and lexicons are empty for me now, leaving me to a world of deafness and silence. I was a man of few words, I could attest to that, but now I am a man of no words, no matter how often people would prod and poke me for some sort of human response. I could offer them nothing.

Green is my favorite color. More specifically, the sort of grassy green that might roll off of fresh summer hills, the color of Jade's eyes. _By God_ , she was blessed with the perfect green that I could only call Jade's Green. Yes, I'm fully aware of the fact that jade already exists as shade of the hue, but not Jade's Green. It was born purely from her, one that, and although you could claim an approximation of it in nature, it still paled in comparison to her own eyes. It was almost an unnatural green, but I loved every bit about that color, the flecks of gold embellished within the iris. The world would be at a pure, unadulterated loss without it. Hell, I was at a pure, unadulterated loss without it, something that often clawed at my insides and would raise bile into my throat.

I wake up every morning and I'm greeted with the same face, something that's lost meaning to it every time I stare at the reflection. On most occasions, I've grown to hate it with each stolen glance, the crows feet embedded in bags beneath my lids, the rough, jaggedness of facial hair pushing its way through my chin and upper lip. Wheat-blond locks that strung themselves above my brow were in desperate need of a trim. I never planned on fixing anything about me, because who did I really have to fix it for? The answer sure as hell would never be myself.

I've never been a sharp dresser, and I was never good at picking out any clothes myself. Jade always took the liberty of doing that for me, something of which I never instructed her to do. She just did it, and that was that. Somehow, she just knew what I would want the next day, regardless of me barely having a preference in the first place. She knew that I only liked certain ties on certain days, that the powder blue shirt was only when I was absolutely in a positive mood, that my pants only came in shades of black. I never once told her these things. She simply just watched and learned, and then did it herself.

Most days I would do the cooking, with the exception of her preparing breakfast. It was the only kitchen related thing she could handle without setting an oven mitt on fire, or without breaking a million dishes as she scrambled to discover which pot or pan she would need to use. She took pride in the fact that she was excellent at making our breakfast, stating that she, too, could open up her own breakfast joint on the corner of the grimy asphalt avenues. I never had the heart to tell her that was the shittiest idea in the world, because she didn't even have to second guess my own thoughts. She learned my responses as if there was already a dictionary of them compiled and published, having bought it years in advance. She was probably better at our own relationship than I was, so if that drove her away that one night, I wouldn't have blamed her. But that was a useless coping mechanism designed to only make me feel a thousand times worse and fuel my newfound alcohol addiction ten thousand times more. Not that it hadn't already existed before, but it was only surface deep, as of recent.

It is only barely five in the morning, the sun barely creeping up in the sky, darkness still surrounding. The streets are lit with a breeze of rushing cars, stores turning on their flourescent light fixtures, neon signs illuminated. The air is stale and cold, biting at your cheeks with the same, familiar, affectionate nip it always graces me with, and I stand at the edge of the sidewalk, thrusting my arm into the air. It's my regular routine, and within a few seconds I am granted a decrepit, mustard taxi cab, sliding inside and muttering the same words I always do as the man nods, speeding off down the busy streets. He makes twists and turns that would make you question his credibility and how he got the job in the first place, but I find that I don't care as usual, and I sit with my eyes drawn behind shades.

I'm not entirely sure when I handed the man a tenner and said, "Keep the change", or when my feet dragged me lazily into the beaten-down brick building, but I am at my desk, a cup of bitter, undiluted, dark coffee in hand, shifting through papers without thought. A folder is tossed onto my desk with a sudden thud, causing me to break my train of what I call, 'unconcentration'.

"Here's the file," the man in front of me, the one who always wears a permanent scowl on his face, my boss says. My eyes don't raise from the desk, but I reach for it, stopped mid-action when he slides it away from me.

"Nuh-uh. I have to ask you first before you handle the case if you will be able to handle the case," he declares. "I don't want it compromised because you decided you wanted to play all 'macho-man' and take on something that no normal person with any sense of fucking wisdom would take. It's still fresh, Rookie," now a nickname for me rather than a title of rank, "You shouldn't be playing god with something that you can't fix." Weeks ago, that statement would've gotten me into a tizzy and I might have punched the shit out of him, but I know better than that, now, and his words were not of that ilk.

"I can do it," I respond hastily, and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Can you?" He's not saying the words to piss me off, actual concern pouring through his tone for once in his life. He doesn't want some dumbass detective screwing up his workforce because he can't get a grip on his goddamn emotions, but I don't have any emotions to feel, so I convince myself that I am okay with it.

"I can do it," I echo, and yet the echo is hollow, as if I practiced the words so many times that they lost meaning after awhile.

"Look, if you're looking to solve it so that you can find your peace," he begins, "Then I hope you find it. Best regards, Rook." He exits your room, leaving me to silence as I glance back at the folder. It sits there, sticking out at me like a sore thumb, taunting me with its presence. I dare open it, I dare peek inside, I dare stare at those photos like I haven't seen the scene laid out to me in real life. 

When I see that familiar green struck with crimson, I instantly feel this morning's breakfast rise up my throat and I turn to the trash can in time. I am so tired of the sick that comes every time I think about it hard enough or every time I see the pictures, but I know that it won't stop, not while it's still fresh in my mind. I still manage to convince myself that this is a good idea, but in reality it is a bad decision wrapped in horrible consequences, gut-wrenching nausea, and unsatisfiable malice. Yet I cannot find the will to drop the case, because I feel responsibility for not being there, I feel responsibility for not possibly knowing, I feel responsibility for not saving her. 

Maybe if I wasn't the world's shittiest husband, I would have never have had to put her in the ground.


	8. Raise Your Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and John get married and Dave and Jade have to cope with their best friends leaving and being lone wolves out in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REEEEEEAAAAAAALLLLLLYYYY old fic I made awhile ago so here it is I still like it a lot but it's my earlier writing so there's your warning on that. I personally think it's aged like a nice, fine wine.

"Rose, you look absolutely  _gorgeous_ ," Jade says, flouncing out the rest of her friend's lace wedding dress and flattening out her veil.

 "I could say the same for you, Jade," Rose smiles softly at Jade, her lips still stained with their usual licorice shade. Jade's hair has been twisted into a delicate side-braid, with a pink lotus tucked behind her ear. She is wearing a mid-calf length lilac mermaid dress. "Oh, Jade, when did we all grow up? John and I are getting married, you're a botanist, Dave is a professional photographer. Where did all the years slip past us?" Jade only manages to shrug at her.

"I wonder that a lot, too," she grins her signature buck-toothed grin. "It's not fair that you're leaving Dave and I behind. What are we going to do without you?" Rose places a hand on her friend's cheek.

"I think you two will manage fine without us old hoagies. We'll be married. It's not something you'll want to be a part of. It'll be all taxes and children. You know, old people stuff." Before Jade manages to utter another word, Rose's older sister enters the room.

"Rosey, it's time to get ready!" she shouts. "Oh, don't you look like a doll." The corners of Rose's lips turn upward and she greets Roxy with a loving embrace. 

"Thank you. Now, let's go." Jade grabs her bouquet from the chair in Rose's dressing room and follows quickly behind them down the hallway. Roxy has taken the liberty of holding up the back of Rose's dress in order to arrive in her designated spot on time. They find their destination point with the rest of the wedding party (minus the groom, of course) and join them, with Rose in the back of the group. Jade finds her way up front next to Dave and jabs him lightly with her elbow to get his attention.

"Where do these people think they're going, a wedding or something?" He turns to her, laughing for a moment before gargling back a small gasp. She takes notice of his immediate silence and see's his pale cheeks tinged with red.

"Whoa, Jade, you're a knockout." She feels the prickly rise of heat to her cheeks, as well, but ignores it, linking arms with the blushing groomsman. 

"We better get ready to head down the aisle." He nods his head and focuses his attention forward as the rest of the party gets into position. Once all are in place, the wooden doors open to the interior of the church, where lavender wafts around the room and light purple daisies and carnations are spread about every where. John is at the end of the aisle, patiently awaiting his bride. The music flourishes in everyone's ears (Beethoven, of course, as per Rose's request) and Jade urges Dave up the aisle. The rest follow behind, and when they get up front Jade breaks from Dave's side, parting to the side where Rose will be. She watches John's face carefully, waiting for the exact moment when he sees Rose clearly.

When she does begin her ascent up the aisle, his face brightens and his blue eyes widen, watching her warily as if he had never seen her before in his life. His mouth opens, agape at first, but then it softens into a smile when he's taken it all in. Rose joins him at the altar and the ceremony commences. The two exchange vows, the minister says some words, and after a painstakingly long time of standing (for Dave, at least) they kiss, and everyone claps. They exit down the aisle, and Jade returns to Dave's side, following their path a moment later. 

When everyone is out, Jade holds Dave's shoulder for a moment as she takes off her heels, discarding of them in the hall of the church as Dave raises his brow at her. 

"What? I'll get them later," is her only response as she tosses them to the side, walking with him to their table for the reception. The married couple has their own table with their respective family members while the bridesmaids and groomsmen get a table for themselves. The two take a seat and wait patiently while everyone else finds their designated tables. Each seat has a little champagne glass set by the plate, for toasting. Dave puts his hand out when Jade attempts to back hers, and when she does, she stealthily takes her neighbor's glass and pours it into hers, leaving it be. Dave's brows furrow. "Oh, don't give me that look. You were thinking the same."

"Yeah, but I wasn't actually going to do it." She snorts at him.

"Live a little, kay, Dave? I mean, I thought you were Dave Strider, Mr. I-Don't-Give-A-Shit-About-Anything!" 

"Yeah, and I thought you were Jade Harley, Ms. Stick-In-My-Ass-Plant-Scientist," he drawls. She attempts to protest but is halted by John clinking his glass with his knife. 

"Thank you all for coming! I'm so glad that all our beloved friends and family were able to make it to our wedding. I guess it's that time of night where the Best Man and Maid of Honor give their speeches?" John asks, looking to Rose. She nods her head and they turn their attention to Dave and Jade. Dave mutters something like, "You go first", under his breath to Jade, but she simply shakes her head and he sighs, rising to the occasion. He clears his throat and begins.

"So, I guess it's my turn to say something about John. How long have I known John, you might ask? Well, your answer is 'hella'. I've know him a hella long time. We probably met around first grade, and after showing me his numerous Pokemon cards I thought, "Hey. This kid is a total dork." I was right. But we still somehow managed to become friends through some weird trick of fate. Later we met Rose and Jade and became friends with them, too. If you had told me back then that Rose and John were going to get married, I would've been like, "Hell no, those two won't even go near each other!" But somehow he fell in love with her affinity for wizard Erotica--" ( _"Dave!"_ ) "And love of psychology and somehow she fell for his goofy buck-toothed grin, wizard baking skills (which would explain a lot if you use the term 'wizard')--" ( _"DAVE."_ ) "And his pranks, which make him one hilarious guy to be friends with, and for her, the perfect guy to fall in love with. So congrats, you two, for being the best couple to ever couple." Dave finishes his speech and everyone claps, cheering as he sits back down. 

"You're up, Harley," he punches Jade's arm lightly, and she nods her head and stands up. Once all is quiet again, she begins.

"Can I just say,  _wow_. I am so glad that I get to be here today, be Rose's Maid of Honor, see two of my best friends in the whole entire world get married, and talk about it. I remember meeting Rose for the first time in pre-school, actually. She was just as quiet as she is now, but I remember that's what made me so interested in being her friend. Even though she was quiet, she still was able to speak a million words, through the things she did. She and I grew up together, learned from each other. We are practically sisters, we're so tight. I recall one time Roxy had to babysit us when we were eight, and oh we were such horrorterrors. We had managed to find an entire jar of candy and eat it all, get a sugar rush, decorate the entire house in glitter and macaroni, and puke all over the floor before her mother got home. We felt so bad about it the next day that we wrote her apology letters. I think my favorite moment, and hers, too, was getting to meet John and Dave, the two most important guys in our life. If we had never have met them, we wouldn't be standing here today. My last words will be this: be there for each other for everything. Hate each other for the things you love and love each other for the things you hate. Be the best people for each other that you can ever be and don't forget to be not only lovers, but friends, as well. I love you guys so much and congrats." Jade sits back down and the entire room erupts with clapping. 

"Wow, Jade, you win the speech round of the competition, for sure. That was hella," he pats her back. John clinks his glass again and raises it.

"To life, to love, to marriage, to happiness! Let's raise our glasses!" Everyone lifts their champagne glasses in unison and turns to one another to clink them against each other. Jade turns to Dave to hit her glass against hers, but instead her champagne glass meets a pair of sunglasses. 

"Daaaaave," she elongates, raising a brow at him.

"He said to, 'Raise our glasses'. These are my fucking glasses," he says, placing them back upon his face. 

"Ha ha, very funny. Now seriously, hit your glass against mine." Dave does so and they drink, Jade knocking back her second glass. 

"Let's eat!" John exclaims, and everyone hums in response. The band strikes up, playing more upbeat tunes than the ones played during the ceremony, seemingly John's choice.

"Boy, am I ready," Dave pats his stomach. Jade smiles and shakes her head at him, pulling him to the food line. After about ten minutes, they manage to get their food (and two glasses of red wine, per Jade's request) and sit back down, inhaling the food they have been waiting months to eat. 

"Alright, Snorlax, I know you wanna eat everything in sight but you might wanna slow down and  _not_ get any food on yourself. I swear, you're a wreck," he tells her, grabbing his napkin and wiping off the corner of her mouth with it. She pauses a moment and he does, too, holding each other's gaze until Jade breaks the trance, swatting his hand away.

"I know how to eat,  _Mom_ ," she retorts, crossing her arms. He shakes his head and laughs at her, not pressing further on the matter. She downs her glass of wine and he stops her before she grabs another glass of something alcohol-based. 

"Why are you drinking so much? Your blood is going to be 90% alcohol by the end of this night," he raises a brow. She sighs.

"It's gonna be different, huh? Just you and me now that they'll be on their way." He frowns.

"It's been 'just us' before. I don't see what's wrong." She begins sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder, and Dave begins freaking out, patting her halfheartedly with confusion.

"Shit, Jade, just calm down. We'll be good. They are going to go their way but they'll still talk to us, okay? And you know what? We'll be fucking peachy. We'll be motherfucking apple juice hella baller and the world won't know what hit it," the words stumble out of his mouth. She ceases sobbing and begins laughing, leaning back from him. He wipes the mascara-stained tear trails off her cheeks with his napkin and tosses it back on the table, turning to face her completely. 

"Dave, I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me. I should be happy! We'll be lone wolves, ready to take the world by storm! I can't think of anything better than that," she chuckles jubilantly, and Dave loosens his collar, trying to relax from his friend's sudden mood changes. 

"You know, you confuse the shit out of me. But yeah, we will." His attention turns towards the dance floor where many people have relocated to. "Wanna do the cheesy ironic thing and dance with me?" He extends a hand out to her and she accepts it, giggling as he pulls her to the center of the dance floor. "Now I know that our best friends have a shitty taste in music, but we're still going to have to show off our moves. I don't mean to brag, but I was once forced to take a flamenco dance class so I'm prepared to bring it."

"I don't mean to brag but my grandpa put me through five years of dance, so I think I'm more than prepared to bring it," Jade counters playfully.

"Is that a challenge, Harley?" He eyes her jovially. She smirks.

"Do your worst, Strider." The two ensue in an innumerable amount of dips and twirls, making out to be the two worst dancers in the room. When they are finally out of breath, they sit back down, fanning themselves from the vigorous dance work out. 

"You know, for a second there I thought we were actually going to be good at it," Dave wheezes. "Aw, shit, where's my fucking inhaler." Jade digs in her purse and hands it to him. He takes the prescribed dosage for himself and puffs, then caps the container and hands it back to her. "See, this is why we're friends. You carry my medication for me."

"I figured that if I didn't do it you would find yourself in a moment where you didn't have it because you forgot to bring it." He laughs picking up her hand by her fingers.

"Oh yeah, I'm not one who forgets?" he gestures to the multicolored strings that line her hands.

"Those are there so that I remember. So far, I've remembered your inhaler. Where does that leave us on the scoreboard? Oh yeah, Strider: zero, Harley: one," she grins cheekily. Right as Dave is about to say something, Rose and John appear beside them and interject.

"You two, we're about to head out," Rose says, one of her hands intertwined with John's. Jade rises and brings them in a big embrace.

"I'm going to miss you sooooooooo much!" she squeezes, but then stops. "Dave, get over here!" He nods his head and stretches his arms around them as much as he can. 

"Gonna miss you losers around here. Won't be the same without my favorite power couple."

"We will, too," Rose smirks, raising her brow.

"What?" Dave asks, but John cuts him off as they cease hugging.

"Don't you two be strangers, now, okay? Dave, you take care of Jade and Jade, don't forget to punch Dave on a daily basis for me," he grins mischievously. Jade nods her head in reply.

"Jade, I'm gonna go throw the bouquet now. Wanna come?"

"Lady stuff," John mutters to Dave. Jade follows beside Rose and the four walk outside to the front where everyone else is, getting ready to send off the newlyweds. The women all group together and Rose tosses back the bouquet. They all fight for it, but in the end, Jade is the most aggressive, beating them all out for the (now torn) bouquet. Rose joins up with John again and they say their goodbyes and load up into the limo, speeding off into the distance. Jade makes her way back to Dave.

"Looks like I got the bouquet," she says proudly, waving the disheveled mess in his face.

"That's pretty sad, actually," he comments, pushing it away. "What're you gonna do with it, anyway? You got some guy you want to get married to?" She grows silent for a moment, as if lost in thought, and then mumbles something, a small, inaudible something. "What was that?"

"I said, 'We could get married'." He grows quiet, words suddenly bunching in his throat as it grows dry. 

"Oh yeah?" he manages to choke out a few seconds later. She drops at his reaction.

"Just forget I mentioned it," she tells him, tossing the bouquet onto the ground. "It was a stupid notion." Jade begins to walk away from Dave, and he finds himself screaming,  _No, no, no! Get her, get her, get her!_ in his head. His feet finally push him off the ground towards her, and he grabs her wrist in his hand, pulling her around to face him. When she does, his lips are upon hers, kissing her and tasting her and all that is Jade Harley. Her hands find their way around to rest on his shoulders and he pulls her closer to him, biting her lower lip ever so slightly. When he thinks he's satisfied, he pulls away, and she lingers only for a moment. 

"I was kind of hoping I would be the one to propose, when the time came. But I guess now is good, too. As long as it's with you." She laughs and rests her forehead on his shoulder. He ruffles her hair for a bit and then rests his chin on top of her head.

"How long ago for you?" she asks him. He shrugs.

"Probably about the same time John told me he liked Rose. I was like, 'Oh no, we're not going to do that stupid fall-in-love-with-our-best-friends thing, are we?' John just got a quicker jump on it." She breathes into his chest, inhaling his scent. "You?"

"Rose told me, 'There's this blond-haired kid you should meet. He's like me, but vulgar, a bit of an asshole, and he likes to rap for some strange reason.' And I met you and I knew. It was just one of those things, I guess. I didn't want to say anything because I wasn't sure if you would feel the same way." He leans Jade back to look at her, studying her emerald green eyes. 

"Well, I do, I hope you know." Her lips curve into a smile.

"I would kind of hope so." Dave drapes his arm around her, walking her back into the church.

"C'mon, we better go now. Folks are clearing out and it's our job to help clean up the clusterfuck of plates and leftover food." She giggles and follows beside him back in the church, knowing all too well that she'll be back soon enough, only they won't be the ones cleaning up leftover chicken and plastic plates.


	9. Prodigal Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had never thought she’d be the one to drop completely off the face of the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another super old fic I've done that's aged like a sort of okay wine but it's one of the few that's old that I still can tolerate and I like it so here it is.

Sure, Jade Harley was one child who had always lived her entire life in the stars, dreaming about what it might be like out in the vastness of space, but for her to completely disappear was another thing. Jade Harley was the one person that was always grounded. People always expected you’d be the one to split town without a moment’s notice, fading from reality. You kind of shrugged that misconception off: you weren’t the kind of person to do that but you let people think what they wanted to. Jade falling completely off the face of the earth was like hell freezing over: nearly impossible. Nearly.

She didn’t give off a single signal that she was slipping. No alarms went off in your heads that said, ‘Warning: unstable’. It was the same, peppy Jade Harley that you had known since before the game. Until recently, you had thought that she was the one who recovered the quickest from the game, the one who had the most level head and was able to pick up the rest of you. The one who was able to be there for you the most and you were starting to get acquainted with the frequent time she spent by your side.

Then she was gone.

You try to rationalize at first that maybe she still obtained the space powers she had once held while in the game and that it was a mere mistake that she had left. You then remember the day the four of you had spent trying to use your powers and how you all came to the conclusion at sunset that you, indeed, had nothing left over from the game except the houses you had lived at your entire lives. You came to grips with the reality of the situation when you stood in her empty house, a note left on the counter.

The note said something about her going out to find her true self and not to follow her because she’s fine, she’s absolutely wonderful. You crumpled the sheet of paper and threw it on the ground in rage. She’s _fine_ , absolutely _wonderful_ without you.

You clenched your fists and wished you could punch yourself for not telling her how you felt before . . . _it_ happened, but you didn’t and now she’s vanished from your life.

You don’t know how long it will be before you ever hear the name ‘Jade Harley’ echo throughout your auditory canal and you don’t know if you can handle that.

You spend weeks writing songs about her, mixing songs with the leftover files of her playing the bass and adding it whenever and wherever you can to a song because you want to just hold onto her memory for as long as you can.

You spend months growing potted plants in your window even though you haven’t a clue about how to grow a single plant (you’ve killed at least twenty sets of plants now.) But you read up on it, desperately trying to remember her through the flowers she used to grow all the time. No matter how hard you try to grow those damn flowers, they always die.

A year passes by and you’ve come to terms with the absence of her, come to terms with the fact that you can’t grow plants and you won’t ever grow plants again. You haven’t added a bass line to a song in a while nor do you intend to because you don’t need silly basses added to your music. Her name, her voice, her image barely echoes throughout your mind anymore, and you don’t think you could hear or see her in your mind even if you tried. She was a stranger to you, a distant memory. You didn’t miss her anymore.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself when she comes trudging through your door, sopping wet, telling you she’s had the most amazing time. You stare at her as if she’s speaking gibberish, and she might as well be because she’s talking so fast. Quickly, your shock turns to anger, absolute, _fuming_ anger and you rise to face her. Right as you’re about to let her have it . . . you see those emerald eyes peering up at you softly, and all your anger melts away. You grab her and embrace her tightly, telling her that she’s the stupidest person in the world and that you’re actually glad she’s returned to this earth, _your_ earth. She smiles and hugs you back tightly, telling you that she’s sorry, and at that moment, that’s all you need.


	10. Bleeding Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _HOKAY davejade request: Dave buying tampons because Jade is too sick to move_

He really should google this shit.

Row upon row of different colored, different branded boxes grace Dave's face, and he doesn't have a fucking clue which one to pick up. Not only should he google this stuff, but he should probably ask his girlfriend what brand she uses before he leaves. Unfortunately for him she was stuck in bed with a fit of cramps, unable to move except to mutter out the word, "Tampons." He gave her a quick peck on the forehead and shuffled out of their apartment without a word, taking their old pickup out to the grocery store down the street.

_God, I really need to learn Jade's tampon brand._

He settles on several brands and several different sizes, tossing them in the basket without a word as he plods on down towards the frozen section of the store. He knows her habits and chocolate ice cream is one of them, something of which they recently found missing from their freezer (he really shouldn't have finished it off, but he had a sweet tooth that ached like a bitch.)

Several minutes later, Dave enters the checkout line, loot in tow as he places the basket on the conveyor belt, tossing a _Food Network_ magazine in there before it slides on towards the cashier. The lady greets him with a grin and begins ringing his items up, placing them in a plastic bag once she's done.

"This must be your first time purchasing tampons," the lady (her name tag says 'Elia') comments. "It looks as though you bought out the entire feminine hygiene section."

"Yeah, I didn't really get the chance to ask my girlfriend what brand she uses," Dave replies, heat rising to his cheeks.

"Well, she's lucky to have a kind soul like you," Elia smiles softly, her eyes shut tight as the corners of her eyes crinkle. "That'll be $29.58." He nods, extracting his wallet out of his pocket, finding his credit card and sliding it on the card reader. After making the transaction, the receipt prints and Elia hands it and his bags to him, bidding him a good afternoon as he takes off towards his car in the parking lot.

 

~

 

"Oh, you're home!" Jade greets him from the couch, her demeanor shifted from her earlier state of gloom to a much more comfortable state. Dave waves to her with a crooked smile etched upon his face, leaning in to kiss her before placing the bags on the couch next to her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know which brand to get you," he says, scratching the back of his head.

"So you bought them all," Jade finishes plainly, sifting through the bags. "Oh my goodness, you got me chocolate ice cream and a _Food Network_ magazine! You really know how to treat a lady when her aunt Flo is visiting."

"I'm not _that_ good at it, but I promise, I'll learn your brand and everything. Which brings me to this question: why are there so many fucking tampon brands?!" Jade giggles before pulling Dave against her in a tight embrace, her nose buried in his chest.

"I think you're pretty perfect at being you, Dave, and that's all I need. I love you." He wraps his arms around her gently, pressing his face into the crook of her neck.

"I love you too, Jade."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone awhile, yes. Also, 'Bleeding Love' for a period fic? HA. I'm funny.


	11. I'll Shuck All The Light From My Skin, Then I'll Hide It In You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night is the mistress that beckons you to bed, and after several years of departure have passed, you welcome her with open arms.

Night is the mistress that beckons you to bed, and after several years of departure have passed, you welcome her with open arms.

You’re a night owl by nature, but damnit if you just want to sleep all your horrors away and let yourself readjust to this new life you’ve been given. The only thing that keeps you from a restless slumber is the bed bobbing up and down, followed by the eerie creak of the old mattress you call home. You resign yourself to no sleep tonight because there’s something more important to attend to, and you rip the covers from your legs to join it.

And there she is in all her splendor, stars and galaxies wrapped up into one porcelain being, the spark of hope in your life that you just want to hold onto forever and ever, if she’ll let you. She’s at the window again, a ritual she’s come to claim once every month, and you’re always at her side to be a cornerstone, something on which she can depend.

“Hey,” you greet her, skin touching skin as you grab her hand in yours. Vivid green flashes over to you, and suddenly the frown she was donning disappears, a fond smile in its place. Her fingers are nowhere near the warmth yours are at (she’s  _always_  cold), but you like her coolness, her gentleness that gives you relief from your anxieties. You may be her cornerstone, but she’s your lifeline.

“Hi, Dave!” You press a quick kiss to her forehead, leaning yours against hers afterward.

“Looking at the stars again, Jade?” She nods her head.

“I miss them.”

You’re quite familiar with her need to be amongst the stars, this empyreal being of yours, and it makes you laugh. Not because the notion is silly—Jade could reach the stars if she wanted to, and you’d let her. It’s because, after everything that happened, she still wants to return to the very place that stole years of your life away just so she can feel what it’s like to fly with the stars again. You respect that.

“They’re always there for you,” you tell her, threading your fingers carefully through the silky black expanse that is her hair. “Always and forever.” Her pearlescent smile grows wider, and she closes her eyes.

“Just like you,” she says, “Just like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a drabble I wrote a while ago, but I had never posted it on ao3, so here it is! Enjoy :)
> 
> (the title comes from the song "Shuck" by Purity Ring.)

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of my davejade week entries. The song used for it is Unfinished Business by White Lies.


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